


Shades of Twilight

by Celebrimbor_Of_Eregion



Series: Angsty Silvergifting (and Other Angsty Celebrimbor Things) [10]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon), The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ableism, Celebrimbor's Life is a Tragedy, Crossover, M/M, Rape, mentions of torture, taking advantage of a sick person, this is not a healthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-01-24 00:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18560344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celebrimbor_Of_Eregion/pseuds/Celebrimbor_Of_Eregion
Summary: Tyelpë manages to escape his captivity, only it exchange it for a nicer one.





	1. Escape

**Author's Note:**

> For Find.

“Look what I brought you, Tyelpë.”

The exhausted, shaking Elf turned away. He did not want to look. He did not wish to see another horrible thing Sauron’s twisted mind had come up with.

“Oh, don’t fret, darling, it’s just a mirror. Don’t you want to see how beautiful you are?”

No, Tyelpë did not. He knew he was bloodied and pale and starved, and there was no joy in seeing it, but Sauron forced him to.

“Look at it, darling. Look what you’ve done to yourself.”

He did not do it; Sauron did.

“You know what we’ll do, precious?” Sauron’s voice was deceptively sweet. “I will fuck you in front of this mirror, and you’ll watch yourself being used. Does that turn you on, my little Elf?”

At this point, Tyelpë’s troubled, confused mind could hardly make sense of the term “turn on,” and his body did not seem capable of such a response to any kind of stimulation. But he knew that this activity was far less painful than torture. Besides, somehow it made Sauron more tired than torturing his prisoner, which perhaps resulted from the remnants of their shattered fëa bond. So he would only have to tolerate Sauron doing his thing for some time, and then he would most likely be left alone for a day. That sounded nice.

Tyelpë nodded slightly, demonstrating his agreement. “Yes, my lord.”

“Yes?!” Sauron seemed simultaneously confused and uplifted. “Really, it does? Oh, you’re such a good boy.” His long nails scratched under Tyelpë’s chin, as if rewarding a docile pet. “Since you are so well-behaved today, I will be gentle with you.”

Sauron’s “gentle” meant simply “not too cruel,” but at this point, Tyelpë considered this a blessing.

“Oh, silly me.” Sauron shook his head. “I did not bring any lube. Wait here, lovely, I’ll be right back.” He held Tyelpë’s chin to kiss his lips briefly, to which the Elf demonstrated no reaction, and promptly stormed out.

Tyelpë sighed, turning away from the mirror. The blue sheen of the surface frightened him, and the perspective of being taken in front of it was sickening. The cell was dark save for small light from a candle that had by now begun to blink. Tyelpë gasped in panic when the light finally went out. Driven by some irresistible force, he turned his gaze to the mirror; it continued shining blue despite the darkness.

Tyelpë could not suppress another gasp when he started seeing the outlines of a room, a fancy desk and numerous shelves with books, a window that revealed a piece of blue sky lit up by the bright sun. He had not seen any blue sky or sun in what seemed to be ages. Tears burned his cheeks, stinging the wounds. Tyelpë had stopped wishing for anything but death long ago, but now… now he wanted to be in that bright, peaceful world.

“Please, mirror,” he cried, his palm pressed to the cold glass, “please, may I come in?”

Suddenly, the surface of the mirror blurred, the room’s proportions distorting.

“No, no,” the Elf begged, “please, don’t go…”

But the room was not going anywhere - Tyelpë was.


	2. Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaravos has some new chores to do.

Stunned, Aaravos observed his new acquisition. The thing was pretty, with soft skin and frightened grey eyes that stared at the Startouch Elf in confusion as he cupped its face. Aaravos couldn’t quite figure out, however, what  _ exactly  _ it was. The creature was tall and had pointy ears, yet it possessed no horns. The hair was pitch black and long, and each of the trembling hands had five fingers. Elf? Human? Something else entirely?

“Interesting,” Aaravos hummed, squeezing the pale cheeks a little. The creature squealed quietly; the sound was pitiful, and Aaravos let go of the stranger’s face immediately. “Forgive my manners,” he spoke sincerely. “I am Aaravos, a Startouch Elf. This is my home. And you are?..”

“I am Tyelpë, a Noldorin Elf,” the creature replied in a hoarse yet still pleasant voice. “I touched the mirror, and…”

“Many have,” Aaravos interrupted, frowning, “but the mirror let no one in - no one but you. What else did you do?”

The strange Elf looked down. “I… I asked it to let me in,” they mumbled.

“Let you in?” Aaravos had not been this surprised in a thousand years. “Why, why would you want to be here?! It’s a prison! I am stuck in this place!!” 

He coughed, ashamed of his sudden outburst.

The hornless Elf looked over Aaravos in disbelief. “You… do not look like anyone tortures you,” he suggested timidly.

Aaravos threw a return look. It immediately became clear to him why the other Elf mentioned torture. The poor thing’s body was fully covered with a bloody crust of varying thickness, numerous wounds peeking through the holes in his garments. The ankles and wrists wore traces of shackles, brown by now. Aaravos shuddered, recalling his own shackles, long, long ago.

“Someone was keeping you prisoner and tormenting you, and you decided the mirror was better,” the Startouch Elf concluded.

The other simply nodded in response - and then their face grew even paler. “You… you are not going to hurt me, are you?”

Aaravos could not deny that he was touched by the poor creature’s suffering. Gently, he wrapped them into an embrace, careful not to disturb any injuries. “No, no, Tyelpë,” he assured them quietly. “I will not harm you, and no one else will. It will be fine. We cannot escape, and there is no one else around, but we have all things necessary for survival. You’ll be fine.”

Tyelpë shuddered once, twice, and broke down into tears, their face pressed into the host’s shoulder.

“Shh, shh, it’s all good,” Aaravos whispered, stroking Tyelpë’s messy hair. “You’re safe, lovely.”

Soon enough, the strange Elf calmed down. Their breath was now quiet and deep, his body not shaking anymore.

“Tell me, Tyelpë,” Aaravos asked softly, “what happened to your horns? I understand that vile tormentors like to slice them off, but I don’t even feel the stumps as I’m stroking you.”

“Horns?” Tyelpë muttered, surprised. “I’ve never had horns.”

“Oh, you were born without them? Poor thing! I can try growing them out with magic.”

“We don’t have horns,” Tyelpë explained, starting to sound a little amused. “Elves in my world never do.”

“I see.” Aaravos smiled, his eyes glowing with curiosity. “Then it’s best that I don’t give you any since your skull probably isn’t thick enough. Well then, what features distinguish you from humans, other than your ears?”

“I am immortal,” Tyelpë replied simply. “And I do not show signs of ageing like they do.”

“What, really? Oh! I would give up my horns for that!”

Tyelpë chuckled, but the effort was too much for them; their legs gave up, and they would have fallen if it wasn’t for Aaravos.

“You poor little thing,” the Startouch Elf sighed. “I need to take care of your injuries, but I can barely see them through that layer of blood. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

Soon, Tyelpë was seated on a little chair in the bathroom, visibly surprised about their host’s kindness while Aaravos ran the water to fill the tub and prepared all the things necessary for bathing. The bathing did not go easy. Tyelpë winced and gasped all the time, their injuries clearly bothering them as Aaravos scrubbed his body clean. The coat of blood, grime, and seed was so dense Aaravos had to change water twice.

“So are you a male, a female, or neither?” Aaravos asked while finally drying his guest with a fluffy towel.

“A male,” Tyelpë replied quietly.

“Well,” Aaravos smirked, patting Tyelpë’s slightly scrawny but still quite lovely behind dry, “I am too.” He now had a clearer idea of what to do with his new companion - but that could wait. He was not as cruel as to use a scared, injured person for his long-neglected needs, especially given how obvious it was that Tyelpë had been used for such things before.

The dark-haired Elf handled the treatment of his wounds pretty well. He only flinched occasionally while Aaravos covered the injuries with ointment and bandaged them.

“Good boy,” Aaaravos praised and rewarded Tyelpë with a gentle kiss on the brow.

“A-ah…” Tyelpë gasped softly, closing his eyes in pleasure. Aaravos smiled at him, glad about the reaction.

He was kind enough to think of his guest’s other needs. “Are you thirsty? I can bring you a glass of water.”

Tyepë tried to keep still, but the way his eyelids shuddered open revealed his anxiety. “What… what do I have to do to earn it?” He asked quietly, eyes fixed on Aaravos.

“Earn it?” Aaravos used his magic to summon a pitcher full of water and a tall glass. “You do not need to earn it, little one. Here.” He filled the glass and handed it to Tyelpë, but the poor thing needed help drinking it as his hands were trembling violently. But he chugged it down eagerly, and then two more.

“Sleep well, little one,” Aaravos whispered tenderly into Tyelpë’s ear as the latter curled up comfortably between the pillows. “You are safe and cared for.”

After the exhausted Tyelpë finally fell asleep, Aaravos left the bedroom to pick some clothes for the newcomer and check the food supplies. Tyelpë had been through enough, and, as Aaravos’s new pet, he deserved some care.


	3. Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyelpë and Aaravos establish trust... for some time.

Tyelpë did not quite realize when exactly Aaravos took a liking to him. Perhaps it happened on the first day of their meeting? The Startouch Elf tended to his injuries so diligently, offered him food, clothes, bed, everything he could only dream about with Sauron… Aaravos was so, so different from Sauron. Instead of Sauron’s “if you wanted food, you should have behaved, whore,” it was now “what would you like for breakfast, my dear?” His hair was gently stroked and carefully braided, not pulled or twisted. The traces of shackles around his wrists were now healed, as there were no shackles, only a light touch of Aaravos’s midnight blue fingers. Tyelpë loved the Startouch Elf’s skin, nicely colored and a pleasure to explore. He would braid the other’s hair in return and tickle his ears after Aaravos tickled Tyelpë’s own, and they would hold each other outside in the garden, listening to the quiet chirping of birds and watching the imaginary sun die out.

Tyelpë was convinced Aaravos was a creature of Varda, his skin brighter and starrier than even Ilmarë’s, but Aaravos did not know any of Varda’s names. Instead, Aaravos told him of primal magic and dark magic, of humans and Elves, of war and discovery. Tyelpë liked the story; they were safe from the war, and its events were but a curious tale to him. New kinds of magic, dragons being friends to Elves, and a lack of an inherently dark entity fascinated him.

Aaravos was not the only one good at storytelling. Tyelpë managed to recite the entire history of Arda starting with the Music, narrating a part each evening as they sipped their strange tea with the addition of some sweet plant milk. Aaravos was not too impressed by the stories of the wars against Morgoth, those events not as painfully familiar to him as they were to Tyelpë. The discoveries of Eregion, however, and the rings of power caught his attention for  _ days.  _ The Startouch Elf was equally interested in the way music could shape the world, and Tyelpë was eager to explain.

It was during one of such conversations that they kissed. Or, more precisely, Aaravos kissed Tyelpë, as the poor Noldo had long since forgotten how to kiss.

_ It is supposed to be romantic _ , Tyelpë told himself as the Startouch Elf’s warm lips brushed against his own.  _ This makes for a great love story. I escaped, he took care of me, now we love _ .

And yet there was nothing. Tyelpë’s heart was dead for love, as if Eru had only meant for him to love once. What a shame he had wasted that chance on Sauron! Aaravos’s kisses brought him no warmth, no happiness, no pleasant rush of blood, only confusion and faint anxiety.

“Do you not appreciate it?” Aaravos’s baritone pulled him out of his sad thoughts.

“I… I…” Tyelpë turned away. He was ashamed of his lack of affection, his ungratefulness to his dear friend. “I’m so sorry, Aaravos. Really, I am.”

“You’re mine,” the Startouch murmured, nuzzling into Tyelpë’s now healthy and thick hair. “I took such good care of you. I was so gentle with you…” The blue hand pressed warmly against Tyelpë’s chest and slid down his stomach.

“Yes, yes, you did, yes, you were,” Tyelpë assured. “I just cannot feel anything… I think Sauron killed it in me.”

Aaravos sighed.

“But I’m still yours,” the Noldo hurried to add.

“You are, you are,” Aaravos purred, now sounding content.

Things got weird after that day. Aaravos needed kisses all the time, he needed to hold Tyelpë’s hips, needed to trace the curve of his ass, needed to pinch his nipples and ruffle his hair and lick his neck and… Tyelpë tolerated all that, only occasionally sighing. His dear friend, his fellow expert in magic and favorite companion turned into some lustful creature that barely controlled itself. They could no longer sit peacefully and watch the sunset; Tyelpë’s thighs “needed” fondling as much as his ears “needed” kissing, and Aaravos could not remain still. The Startouch Elf, apparently, considered Tyelpë his personal property, something between a pet and a slave, and Tyelpë could not help but be reminded of what he did not wish to be reminded of. Aaravos did still care for him, he made sure Tyelpë had enough food and water, as the poor Noldo was unable to take care of himself in that respect. Aaravos was careful enough not to disturb Tyelpë’s perpetually sore left leg. And yet Tyelpë still cried quietly some nights and feared the inevitable. Aaravos would want to claim him one day, right? One day. Sometime soon.


	4. Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaravos makes a move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this is not a healthy relationship. This chapter contains a detailed rape scene and objectifying language. You have been warned.

Caring for the strange Elf was not easy in any way. Tyelpë demanded constant attention: he struggled determining hunger or thirst, he could barely be trusted to keep himself safe, he would either wake up from the slightest sound or scream from nightmares and be impossible to awaken. His injuries hurt, itched, burned, his hair was falling, covering every surface in a thin layer of black, he cried for no reason several times a day, and his hygiene habits required significant correction. The normal diet of his species differed from that of Xadian Elves, and Aaravos struggled making adjustments. Some days, Aaravos could barely keep himself from screaming out in frustration, but a soft touch of Tyelpë’s nose to his neck was precious enough for his bad mood to dissipate entirely.

Tyelpë did not mean to be such a bother. On the contrary, he was kind and sweet, and he felt sorry that Aaravos had to spend so much time caring for him. There were still benefits to having this little pet. First and foremost, Aaravos finally was not alone. He had been suffering so much in his captivity, being deprived of attention and conversation, hearing no voice but his own, and now, he had someone to talk to. Tyelpë was giving him affection as well, both emotional and physical. They cuddled for hours and caressed each other gently, and ended up choosing to sleep in the same bed. It was so pleasant, to hold someone and to be held, to wake up to someone’s gentle sleepy sounds, to make plans for the day in a quiet, hoarse voice while still in bed. Aaravos treasured that more than he cared to admit.

And, lastly, there was the benefit that Aaravos had not expected to receive. His library was vast, and yet every single book he had there was so familiar to him he could probably recall it down to the smallest detail. He was an Archmage, and as such, he possessed far more knowledge than many, but now, he was stuck in a mirror, restricted from new discoveries. Thank to Tyelpë, he made a discovery that no one else in Xadia had access to. He learned about a new world, governed by music and strange magic; he learned there were other creatures than Elves and humans, and that some of them were more powerful than Archmages. He learned of languages no one in his world had ever heard of, of strange animals and plants and magical tools and spells. Aaravos was happier than he had been in ages. Even more, Tyelpë seemed to have a similar mind, quick and hungry for discovery. Aaravos had not realized how much he missed this, being able to share his knowledge and have someone listen to him with their eyes glowing and their mouth open in awe. It made him so happy he was on the verge of crying many times, and he was so grateful to his little friend for it.

Was Tyelpë really a friend to him, however? Occasionally, Aaravos would have thoughts, long-forgotten wishes for a true love, a caring partner that would be everything he ever wanted. He was still a young Elf last time he had had those, young and gentle and naïve. Life had brought many disappointments since then, some harsh and gut-wrenching, some more like mild annoyances. Could he revive the dream? It seemed he could, for a while. Tyelpë was ideal. Kind, soft, quick-minded, and handsome, just what Aaravos wanted. Had they met earlier, the two of them would have made a perfect couple. But Aaravos was no longer his former self. As his power grew, he became accustomed to controlling others rather than listen to their wishes. He was, of course, aware of the effect his magic had on him, but the control he gained was so addictive, and it was not easy to return to his old behavior once he knew he could have everything his way. It was the same with Tyelpë.

The Noldo was beautiful, beautiful, and Aaravos wanted to touch all of him. Slap that sweet ass, suck on his earlobe, squeeze those thighs, pin him to the wall and breathe in that surprised gasp… Blood pumped into Aaravos’s ears, his heart beating louder and louder every time he groped Tyelpë. The other was not scared, or maybe just a little bit. He knew his place, and he obeyed. That quiet submission and the realization of his own power made Aaravos harder than he had been in years.

Their daily activities were now being interrupted by his lust. It worried Aaravos, that he was so blinded by his desire he could no longer talk magic with Tyelpë or read books together or gather fruit in his garden, chatting quietly and laughing at the worms in the grass. He started feeling anxious of the impact Tyelpë had on him, and nostalgic for what their relationship was like just a week ago.

He was feeling double anxious right now, as they had finally finished making the artificial waterfall in the garden, and he spotted Tyelpë, naked and splendid, bathing in the stream. Aaravos trembled with lust, lewd thoughts coursing through his mind. This would not do, he told himself. He would have Tyelpë and be done with it. No, better, he would have Tyelpë regularly, and between those times, their relationship would be like before. He would be in control of his lust, not the other way around.

“Tyelpë?” Aaravos called, approaching.

Tyelpë immediately transitioned from being peaceful and relaxed to uptight.

“Tyelpë, darling,” he whispered, entering the stream. His light clothes became pleasantly wet, hugging his thighs. “I will not harm you. Have I ever been anything but good to you?” Aaravos approached to cup the Noldo’s face.

Tyelpë’s gaze became calmer. “No…”

“I’m not Sauron.” Aaravos kissed the tip of Tyelpë’s nose, gentle as ever. “I will always be careful with you. I won’t hurt you. I need you so much, I’ve been so lonely, with no one here to take care of me… Please, Tyelpë, we need not fight.”

Tyelpë took a deep breath, his head bowed in acceptance. Slowly, he turned with his back to Aaravos and bent over, his hands coming down to rest against a large rock.

Aaravos wanted to say something, wanted to apologize for making him feel like he had to, wanted to think of how unwell Tyelpë must have been to agree to it so soon, without putting any resistance, even though he clearly did not want it. But the view… oh, the view!

Tyelpë’s ass was gorgeous, pale and plump and all his. Aaravos ran his hands down the Noldo’s back to finally cup that tender curve and squeeze the flesh, hard. Tyelpë squealed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Aaravos whispered, stroking the other’s bottom in consolation, his lips coming to kiss Tyelpë’s head. “Come here, baby…”

It was easy to part his own fluttery garments and free his thirsty cock, and even easier to press it between Tyelpë’s luscious ass cheeks. “Yes…” the Startouch Elf moaned, moving slightly, and then again, with more pressure. “So good… You were made for this…”

Tyelpë shifted into a more comfortable position and arched his back even more, drawing a pleased moan from Aaravos. The Noldo himself remained silent, however.

“My wonderful little plaything,” Aaravos whispered, holding Tyelpë’s hips tightly. He would not stop rocking his hips even if personally threatened by the Dragon King himself. His cock slid so nicely between Tyelpë’s cheeks, moist from bathing, his precome adding to the filthy noises as he moved. “You’re so good, Tyelpë… Mmmm… Not entering you now because it’s our first time… but you’ll have to take my cock later… for sure, yes?”

“Yes, my lord,” Tyelpë replied, his voice emotionless. He made no effort to move along with Aaravos.

The Startouch Elf was hardly discouraged by Tyelpë’s lack of cooperation. He did not know what was better: having his cock squeezed by two lovely pale spheres as he moved, the view on Tyelpë’s obedient body that he could fuck as he pleased, or the thoughts that raged in his aroused mind. Aaravos was thinking of all the ways he would use Tyelpë’s hole, of putting him on his knees and taking him from behind, of getting on top of him in the bed, of catching him unawares and fucking that ass to his own completion. Tyelpë had a mouth too, a lovely one with soft plump lips that could be so nicely employed for Aaravos’s pleasure.

Aaravos used to last so long for his lovers back in the day, but after such long abstinence, he could hardly resist letting himself come after less than a few minutes. His seed filled the cleft of Tyelpë’s ass, drawing a pleased gasp from Aaravos. He felt such relief, such happiness he dragged Tyelpë into an embrace immediately.

“Thank you, my darling,” he whispered. “Thank you, thank you…”

Tyelpë nuzzled into his neck, sighing softly.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Tyelpë replied quietly. “Yes, it’s fine.”

Aaravos felt fine too; more than fine. His relief, however, would not last long, and the thirst would soon come back.


	5. Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyelpë gives up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised: there is no hope here. None whatsoever.

Tyelpë should have known this; should have known he wasn’t good for anything else. Aaravos was so, so kind to him, so caring and attentive. It was a shame it took Tyelpë so long to realize that his mere company was not enough to repay; Aaravos needed something better.

What happened at the waterfall did not come as a complete surprise to Tyelpë. He had expected it, he had known this conclusion was inevitable. He feared it so much, thinking constantly of Sauron and his sexual cruelty. He recalled how many times his body would be bruised and bitten and scratched, how many times his walls would be ripped, how long and painful the “sessions” would be and how sore they would make him. Returning to that was the last thing he wanted.

But Aaravos was not like this. He was gentle and quite slow at the waterfall, and he did not attempt to take Tyelpë, recognizing that he was completely unprepared. It did not hurt in the slightest. Maybe it would stay that way?.. Sure, Tyelpë felt used, but did he not exist to be useful? Aaravos did not employ sex to establish power or to hurt him in order to make him give up sensitive information that could harm his people. Aaravos was merely lonely and in need of some warmth.

“Tyelpë?”

It was not over, of course not, how could it ever be over?

Aaravos sat in an armchair, his legs spread, the hardness evident between his thighs. Tyelpë knew what he had to do, always knew, Sauron used to say he was good for it. Swiftly, he approached and knelt between the other’s legs, his hands fast to remove the clothes.

“So eager!” Aaravos gasped, the markings on his cheeks shining like diamonds. Tyelpë could not deny it was endearing. “You want it, right?”

Tyelpë looked him straight in the eye for a moment.  _ Want it? _

“Of course I do, my lord,” he replied quietly, bowing his head to do his work. He knew better than to speak of his true wishes; his back could still feel the burning touch of a whip, and his mind was by now too anxious to realize that he had left the whip behind, in another dimension.

His lips were soft but insistent as they slid down Aaravos’s cock, enveloping it in warm wetness. Aaravos so clearly enjoyed it, his hands coming down to caress Tyelpë’s hair. That was nice. He knew he had to take all of it into his mouth, all of it entirely or he would be hit, that’s what Aaravos said, or was it not Aaravos, was it someone else? Tyelpë did not know. He did take all of it regardless and bobbed his head, and again, and again, without gagging, as he was so well-used to it.

Tyelpë did not even remember how Aaravos came, whether he swallowed or spit. It did not matter. What mattered was how gently Aaravos cupped his face, how sweetly he kissed him. Aaravos knew how to be grateful; did Tyelpë? The life he now had was infinitely better than the way he lived in Barad-Dûr, and yet he had the indecency to be unhappy. That was disgusting;  _ he  _ was disgusting, and not because of the white traces around his mouth.

Next morning, he woke up not to the light of the sun or the singing of birds but to warmth and weight on top of him and pressure inside him.

“You up, my lovely plaything?” Aaravos whispered hotly into his ear. “Ah… Thank you for being right here for me, baby...” The Startouch Elf resumed pushing into him in slow measured movements, his excited breath tickling the back of Tyelpë’s head. Apparently, Tyelpë had been lubricated, judging from the smoothness of the pushes and the filthy wet sounds that his hole was making.

Memories hit Tyelpë like a wild stream. Cold city, faint scent of spices, his wide bed, lordly robes discarded on the floor, and him waking up to pleasure, Annatar’s strong hands holding him in place...

Those were, in a way, nice memories; something even stirred pleasantly down Tyelpë’s belly, until another realization overcame his mind. That was not a good memory; that was a memory of the time when he allowed himself to lose control, to entrust himself to a stranger, to lift up his guard and let the enemy win over. That cold city smelling of spices was laid waste. The children playing in the streets were forced to seek refuge; the noble artisans who had made the land so prosperous had to flee or be killed; honest, innocent people of all ages became victims of his stupidity. Hot tears ran down Tyelpë’s face, soaking the pillow underneath him. How could he be displeased by his situation, being in safety, with everything he needed to stay alive, with a  _ friend _ , when others were killed or, even worse, still in Sauron’s captivity? He had to thank the Valar, thank the mirror, thank Aaravos…

“You are so very welcome, my darling,” the Startouch Elf whispered gently and began kissing Tyelpë’s head as he approached his finish.

Tyelpë calmed down as soon as Aaravos was done with him. At least he was of  _ some  _ use, bringing  _ some  _ good. Making this one man happy. He would seek it more actively from then on, offering himself to Aaravos in the morning as they lay in their bed and at night when they prepared for sleep. Their every time at the waterfall together was now sex. Tyelpë’s little mouth was working as hard as ever, and Aaravos would not stop praising it.

It was not enough to quench the guilt, but it did serve to numb it. It was all in Eru’s hands, was it not? When his pain was getting out of hand, he would pray to Varda, as openly and sincerely as he had never done before. He prayed for the Mirdain and the remaining prisoners in Barad-Dûr; he prayed for Elrond and Ereinion and Galadriel, for Lorien and Lindon and Eryn Galen, for Númenor and Khazad-Dûm. He gave Aaravos his due and he gave Middle-Earth its due, and then, there was nothing left for himself. There were no hopes or dreams or plans for the future, only obedience and begging. That was his life now, and that was what he had chosen, or had he? He could no longer remember; he was only a shadow of his former lordly self, of a proud grandson of Fëanor. His illustrious ancestor would not recognize him now, and even if we would, he would reject this week creature, thinking it Eru’s mockery over his great house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Novo Amor - Colourway


End file.
